After the Chiefs’ latest loss — a 38-31 thriller to the Dolphins courtesy of Kansas City’s three-point second-half explosion — I intended to write a column summarizing what progress has been made this season.

It was going to be a very short story. But then, as I was standing in the corner waiting to get a private word with Herm Edwards, a squatty, would-be linebacker/fullback walked by me on the way to the shower. Tattooed on the back of his shoulders were six rather large letters D-O-R-S-E-Y.

“That’s Glenn Dorsey, the Chiefs’ No. 1 draft pick?”

The realization totally blew my mind. Oh, I’ve seen Dorsey plenty in the locker room after games. But never barefoot. And never without a clear view of his face. Until Sunday, I had no clue that Glenn Dorsey is a shade below 6 feet tall. You put him in a police lineup with other NFL players, and you peg him as a plodding fullback. He’s Lorenzo Neal.

Now Dorsey’s disappointing season makes perfect sense, and the case to retain Herm Edwards and his coaching staff gets even more difficult to argue.

What in the hell are they doing playing Dorsey straight-up over a guard?

This is the single-worst, defensive-strategy decision I’ve seen in 15 years of covering the NFL. Honestly, defensive coordinator Gunther Cunningham and defensive-line coach Tim Krumrie should be fired today and not allowed to travel to Cincinnati for the season finale.

And Herm Edwards owes Clark Hunt a detailed explanation of why he allowed Dorsey’s rookie season to be wasted by a boneheaded scheme. Short of Cunningham and Krumrie owning compromising blackmail photos of Edwards, Hunt has no choice but to promptly relieve Edwards of his responsibilities.

You don’t draft a 5-foot-11, 300-pound defensive tackle at No. 5 overall, give him $20-plus million in guaranteed money and then ask him to be a run-stuffer lined head-up over a guard.

For those of you who know little about line play, it’s the equivalent of the Indianapolis Colts turning Peyton Manning into an option quarterback. If Indianapolis did that, Colts fans would justifiably rush the field and trample Tony Dungy and his offensive coaching staff.

Dorsey is listed at 6-1, 297 pounds. Even at those dimensions, the strategy is asininely inappropriate. But if Dorsey is 6-1, then I’m the bastard son of Carl Peterson and Oprah Winfrey.

Dorsey is a butterball, a Jerry Ball, a three-technique tackle who should line up on the outside shoulder of the guard and explode upfield. That’s the only way he can be successful in the NFL. As long as he lines up helmet to helmet with a guard, he’ll remain a line-of-scrimmage statue.

“He has no chance in pass rush,” guard Brian Waters told me. “I love it when a guy lines head-up.”

Members of the Chiefs’ scouting department have blamed Dorsey’s subpar rookie season on the extra weight they allege he’s carrying. I’ve been told on two separate occasions that KC’s scouting department evaluated a 300-pounder who is now playing at 315. The personnel guys stand behind their evaluation of Dorsey, the insinuation being a lighter Dorsey would be a more effective Dorsey.

“The way we’re playing him, he better be 315,” Waters said. “He would get destroyed in the run game at 300.”

Given his size and style of play at LSU, there’s only one justification for taking Dorsey at No. 5: You believe he has a chance to be the kind of backfield-disrupter that Warren Sapp (6-1, 300 in his prime) was. Sapp used his explosiveness, quickness and power to get in gaps and force the action.

The Chiefs are using Dorsey as if he’s Albert Haynesworth, the 6-6, 320-pound Tennessee Pro Bowler. Haynesworth goes wherever he wants on the football field. He takes whatever space he desires.

I have no idea whether the right scheme would improve Dorsey’s production. I question his footwork, quickness and explosion. Maybe those shortcomings would disappear with weight loss and being asked to do what he’s capable.

I do know this season may have damaged him permanently. Competition is a game of confidence. Walking into that locker room and watching film of getting blown up week after week can be demoralizing to any player.

This is simply inexcusable. Most high school coaches would know better than to use Dorsey the way the Chiefs have this season. Dorsey’s use indicates a level of dysfunction between the coaching staff and personnel department that is mind-boggling.

Rather than sort through the mess and try to discern who’s to blame for the poor communication, Hunt has every right to blow up everyone and start over.